


He's happy where he is

by fakebodies



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, boba survives the sarlacc too this is what's up, except palpatine lmao rip, nobody dies at least, not angst so i guess its
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:23:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6336013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakebodies/pseuds/fakebodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off this prompt from notcreativegreen: "I lost my wife, I will not lost you now..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's happy where he is

“I lost my wife before, I will _not_ lose you now.” Vader’s voice cuts through the fog in Boba’s mind and he reaches out for the Sith Lord. He’s probably hallucinating- he’s going to die, after all. It’s only natural he’s trying to cling to life. Boba can’t tell exactly where he is anymore, the suns aren’t burning his eyes anymore and there’s no sand grinding into the burns on his back. He still can’t see clearly but at least now he can open his eyes enough to make out a few blurred shapes.

Whatever’s underneath him is soft, something’s clattering around, he thinks it’s a droid. It has to be a droid, Vader’s more graceful than whatever’s making all that noise. He’s not sure when everything stopped hurting, he’d screamed his throat raw in the Sarlacc so it’s not like he could make much noise anyways but _still_ , still, it stopped being a searing pain in the time between sand-grinding-in and droid-banging-around.

When he realizes his helmet is missing he starts to struggle, trying to get up from wherever he is to find his helmet, _Jango’s_ helmet, whoever has him can _see_ him, but there’s that voice again, Vader’s voice, telling him to lay back down. He does, falling limply back, vision swimming from the exertion even though he didn’t get far at all, he couldn’t have. The burns start to sting again and he winces, disappointed in the pitiful noise he makes.

Part of him wonders why he’s fighting this at all.

* * *

Boba comes to in a new room, one that smells like disinfectant and metal, without any droids. He’s covered in bacta patches and when he tries to sit up his vision starts to swim.

“Boba, rest.” comes Vader’s voice as a door slides open. Boba looks up at the Sith Lord, watching as Vader pulls over a chair and sits down.

“Where..?”

“Bast Castle. You were almost dead when I found you on Tatooine. However you managed it, you’re lucky to be alive.”

Boba nods, laying back against the pillow. Well, at least he isn’t dead yet. He’s not sure yet if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. All of the bacta patches itch like hell and his entire body’s sore.

“How long?”

“Two weeks in a bacta tank, one week in bed. You’ll have to stay here six more days.”

“Do I have to stay?”

“Don’t test me, Fett. If I have to sedate you I will.”

Boba can make out the exasperation in Vader’s voice and he smiles, exhausted but glad to be off of Tatooine.

“Fine, fine.”

“Go back to sleep, Boba. You need to heal.”

* * *

Six days later and Boba’s back up and moving around, but he’s far from combat-ready. He’s been working to get back in proper shape, careful not to exhaust himself. As it turned out, a lot had changed in the three weeks he’d been out of it.

Vader hadn’t returned to the Death Star (now nonexistent) since he found Boba. This, however, was not common knowledge. The emperor (now expired) used that to his advantage and drew out Skywalker (now training a new generation of Jedi), tricking the boy. It had cost him his life (and his empire), and the rebels had been victorious.

While this all was playing out Boba had been unconscious in bacta and Vader had been attending to things from the castle, so that he could be there when Boba woke up. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered.

While he works to regain his strength he has new armor made, painting it himself. He’s glad his helmet hadn’t been destroyed, it would feel wrong without the history behind it. Armor is meant to be passed down through the family, he can’t imagine wearing beskar’gam without a tie to his father.

He doesn’t have much use for it now that he’s spending most of his time at the castle with Vader but it’s still nice to have around. Adapting to a quieter life is hard, he’s really never been good at settling down, but he figures after falling into the Sarlacc he deserves to be able to relax. It’s not the life he would’ve chosen for himself originally, but what can he say? He’s happy where he is, with Vader.


End file.
